The Pink Harlequin
Emotion
Note: Yamato is now a duke, okay? ^_^ I made an error last time - a duke is the highest ranking other than that of a prince. So Yamato is now called "your grace". Gomen nasai. And I know that Mimi's name is not Hotaru, okay (I just gave something away, oops)? I know what I'm doing!!!
The next day was a whirlwind.
All the courtiers could talk about was the new pink harlequin Hotaru Matsumura and her outrageous stunts and beautiful appearance. The pink harlequin amused even the Stone, the cardinal of the Church. Duke Yamato had ordered the tailoring of many harlequin and performance outfits just for Hotaru so she could perform with many different costumes. However, he still thought that the pink one she wore when they first met suited her the best.
"Your Grace, isn't she beautiful? Angelically beautiful? Beauteous? Magnificent? Scrumptious - wait, no, that's an adjective for food..." Pierre droned on and on next to the drowsy Yamato. And it was only in the morning! Yamato had been forced to sit next to the simpering Pierre for breakfast that day, which had been a very unfortunate action, for Yamato just did NOT get along with Pierre. Pierre happened to be one of Yamato's greatest admirers, but he acted as if the two of them were friends. How very wrong he was. He didn't just flatter Lord Yamato; he praised, followed, stuck to him like glue, and chatted inanely with him. Yamato would have liked a few words now and then, but Pierre would always shake his head and say, "Oh no, Your Grace, you just sit back and let me do all the talking!" and Yamato would sigh and lapse into daydreams, uttering a "oh?" or a "hmm" between various sentences.
"Pierre, I need some fresh air. I'm going to go out to the courtyard... by myself." Pushing up his chair abruptly, Yamato walked away from the astonished Pierre. "I'll be back shortly..."
Once he stepped a foot onto the courtyard, he noticed that it was empty, save for the pink harlequin from the day before. Hotaru. So early in the morning not many were out, which was a good thing. Yamato smiled a slight grin to himself as he walked over to the young lady and bowed. She turned around from her sitting position on an ornately carved marble bench with roses winding up the legs to face him.
"Hello, Duke Yamato," she beamed happily. So she was happy to see him then? Yamato was rather pleased by her smile and her lovely appearance that morning.
"Hello, Hotaru," he gave a deep bow, and kissed her hand. As he stood upright, his eyes locked on hers, which were staring into his. Suddenly, Hotaru turned away, blushing. She muttered, "Oh dear, I shouldn't be staring like that!" Yamato gave a laugh and pulled her up, to her surprise.
"Don't be so reclusive," he chuckled, "why don't we go somewhere else?"
"Where?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.
"A garden nobody knows about," he answered, giving a secret smile, lightly dragging the harlequin along. As he led the stumbling lady through tiny winding side paths of the courtyard, the pair of them eventually reached a tiny plain full of lush emerald grass. Yamato was once again pleased to hear Hotaru give a gasp of delight. It was no wonder, as well, for there was a splendid pink marble mountain in the middle of the tiny garden-plain. Water still flowed in sprays from its tapered spout, forming elegant arcs and then splashing in the fountain bowl. A bit of moss and garlands of pink lilacs spilled from the bowl, making the scene very picturesque. White roses grew in bushes in various places. Yamato was glad that it was a secret garden; if the other courtiers knew about it, they would come stampeding there and all beauty would be lost. Then Yamato and his harlequin would never see it in its full glory again.
"My harlequin..." Yamato whispered to himself. Hotaru heard it indistinctly, and asked, "What?"
"Nothing," Yamato muttered. After shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he commented, "You look extremely nice this morning." It was true, too. Hotaru was wearing a white silk dress that Yamato had ordered it made just for her. It had long, flowing sleeves embroidered with pale pink silvery thread into roses and vines. Most of the time the embroideries were rather vague, but once positioned under the light properly, it shone and dazzled. The neckline was rather low, and Yamato flushed more than once after glancing at Hotaru. Down the bodice were embroideries of roses similar to those on the sleeves, but in a darker shade of pink. The skirts and petticoats of the dress billowed since they were so large. With her hair let down loose, Hotaru's wavy hair with curls at the ends cascaded just past her shoulders. She looked every bit a princess.
"Why thank you, Your Grace," Hotaru curtsied deeply. "I thank you very much."
"Please, it's Yamato."
"I thought it was Duke Yamato though..."
"Yamato's fine, really."
"All right then!" Hotaru beamed. Yamato loved her smiles. Suddenly, with a start, he realized that he was in love with a girl he had merely met for one day, and one of a much lower class too! If his father knew of such a thing, which he fortunately did not, he would go insane and try to throttle his son. Yamato supposed that there would always be unrequited love...
But oddly, Pierre was right. There were such things as true love and love at first sight. Duke Yamato had just experienced both at the same time in the same package. He could not believe that he was in love.
"Hotaru..." He moved closer to her. He tried to restrain himself from holding his darling harlequin tight, but only felt more pangs of sadness. Hotaru must have noticed the distress in his eyes, for she asked with genuine concern, "All you ill, Yamato?"
"No, I'm fine, truly," Yamato answered quietly. How could he feel so strongly for her? How could he be so emotional? What would his father say?
"I really don't think so," Hotaru whispered, "Let's get you to your quarters." And she started to leave, supporting Duke Yamato. Quickly Yamato turned in the opposite direction. He replied, "No, this way's closer to my rooms. Just climb over the bush, into that open window, and up the secluded stairs..." The two of them clinging onto each other, they made their way past a bush and into a wide open with flimsy shutters hanging by rusted, broken hinges.
"Hey, what's this?" Yamato suddenly asked, spying a picture half shoved beneath the staircase. He walked over to it and gently pulled it out. Framed by an elaborate gold frame with intertwined vines was a portrait of an extremely beautiful lady. And she looked exactly like Hotaru...
"Hmm, Crown Princess of Spain, Mimi Taichikawa..." he read from a tiny plaque engraved on the frame. "Hotaru, this is a striking resemblance."
"Oh, really?" All of a sudden the pink harlequin was all fluttery and worried. She wrung her hands together and fiddled with her fingers, keeping her eyes downcast on the ground. "I suppose... but that doesn't mean we're sisters or anything."
"This is the one Father and his advisors want me to marry," Yamato sighed. "This is the first time I've ever seen her. Pierre was right. She's beautiful." Turning his eyes onto Hotaru, he whispered, "And so are you. But I think I like you better."
"Why Duke Yamato!" She gasped, holding her hand to her mouth. As Yamato reached out his hand to her tentatively, she slowly took it, biting her lip. Still keeping his eyes on her, Yamato kissed her hand and walked up the stairs. He mouthed the words, "I'll be seeing you later."
"Yamato..." Hotaru watched his retreating form up the spiral staircase. "I..." She started to say something, but shook her hand anxiously, and murmured, "No... he's forbidden... I must stay true to the task..." In that moment, she collapsed on the ground and started to weep. "No... no... no..."
Once Yamato reached his rooms, he slammed the door angrily and grumbled to himself. "Why didn't I kiss her? Tell her how I felt?" However, as soon as he uttered the words, he regretted it. For, sitting on the velvet couch right in front of him was his father.
"Oh? Tell who?" He inquired.
"Um..." Yamato was at a loss of words. "Um... Countess Sora!"
A grim smile wormed itself onto his father's tight, gaunt face. He laughed harshly, "Good, because we've had a change of plans. She's to be your betrothed in a month."
Yamato didn't even feel his jaw drop in a fish-like gape.
"Countess...Sora?!"
Emotion
Note: Yamato is now a duke, okay? ^_^ I made an error last time - a duke is the highest ranking other than that of a prince. So Yamato is now called "your grace". Gomen nasai. And I know that Mimi's name is not Hotaru, okay (I just gave something away, oops)? I know what I'm doing!!!
The next day was a whirlwind.
All the courtiers could talk about was the new pink harlequin Hotaru Matsumura and her outrageous stunts and beautiful appearance. The pink harlequin amused even the Stone, the cardinal of the Church. Duke Yamato had ordered the tailoring of many harlequin and performance outfits just for Hotaru so she could perform with many different costumes. However, he still thought that the pink one she wore when they first met suited her the best.
"Your Grace, isn't she beautiful? Angelically beautiful? Beauteous? Magnificent? Scrumptious - wait, no, that's an adjective for food..." Pierre droned on and on next to the drowsy Yamato. And it was only in the morning! Yamato had been forced to sit next to the simpering Pierre for breakfast that day, which had been a very unfortunate action, for Yamato just did NOT get along with Pierre. Pierre happened to be one of Yamato's greatest admirers, but he acted as if the two of them were friends. How very wrong he was. He didn't just flatter Lord Yamato; he praised, followed, stuck to him like glue, and chatted inanely with him. Yamato would have liked a few words now and then, but Pierre would always shake his head and say, "Oh no, Your Grace, you just sit back and let me do all the talking!" and Yamato would sigh and lapse into daydreams, uttering a "oh?" or a "hmm" between various sentences.
"Pierre, I need some fresh air. I'm going to go out to the courtyard... by myself." Pushing up his chair abruptly, Yamato walked away from the astonished Pierre. "I'll be back shortly..."
Once he stepped a foot onto the courtyard, he noticed that it was empty, save for the pink harlequin from the day before. Hotaru. So early in the morning not many were out, which was a good thing. Yamato smiled a slight grin to himself as he walked over to the young lady and bowed. She turned around from her sitting position on an ornately carved marble bench with roses winding up the legs to face him.
"Hello, Duke Yamato," she beamed happily. So she was happy to see him then? Yamato was rather pleased by her smile and her lovely appearance that morning.
"Hello, Hotaru," he gave a deep bow, and kissed her hand. As he stood upright, his eyes locked on hers, which were staring into his. Suddenly, Hotaru turned away, blushing. She muttered, "Oh dear, I shouldn't be staring like that!" Yamato gave a laugh and pulled her up, to her surprise.
"Don't be so reclusive," he chuckled, "why don't we go somewhere else?"
"Where?" she asked, cocking her head to one side.
"A garden nobody knows about," he answered, giving a secret smile, lightly dragging the harlequin along. As he led the stumbling lady through tiny winding side paths of the courtyard, the pair of them eventually reached a tiny plain full of lush emerald grass. Yamato was once again pleased to hear Hotaru give a gasp of delight. It was no wonder, as well, for there was a splendid pink marble mountain in the middle of the tiny garden-plain. Water still flowed in sprays from its tapered spout, forming elegant arcs and then splashing in the fountain bowl. A bit of moss and garlands of pink lilacs spilled from the bowl, making the scene very picturesque. White roses grew in bushes in various places. Yamato was glad that it was a secret garden; if the other courtiers knew about it, they would come stampeding there and all beauty would be lost. Then Yamato and his harlequin would never see it in its full glory again.
"My harlequin..." Yamato whispered to himself. Hotaru heard it indistinctly, and asked, "What?"
"Nothing," Yamato muttered. After shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he commented, "You look extremely nice this morning." It was true, too. Hotaru was wearing a white silk dress that Yamato had ordered it made just for her. It had long, flowing sleeves embroidered with pale pink silvery thread into roses and vines. Most of the time the embroideries were rather vague, but once positioned under the light properly, it shone and dazzled. The neckline was rather low, and Yamato flushed more than once after glancing at Hotaru. Down the bodice were embroideries of roses similar to those on the sleeves, but in a darker shade of pink. The skirts and petticoats of the dress billowed since they were so large. With her hair let down loose, Hotaru's wavy hair with curls at the ends cascaded just past her shoulders. She looked every bit a princess.
"Why thank you, Your Grace," Hotaru curtsied deeply. "I thank you very much."
"Please, it's Yamato."
"I thought it was Duke Yamato though..."
"Yamato's fine, really."
"All right then!" Hotaru beamed. Yamato loved her smiles. Suddenly, with a start, he realized that he was in love with a girl he had merely met for one day, and one of a much lower class too! If his father knew of such a thing, which he fortunately did not, he would go insane and try to throttle his son. Yamato supposed that there would always be unrequited love...
But oddly, Pierre was right. There were such things as true love and love at first sight. Duke Yamato had just experienced both at the same time in the same package. He could not believe that he was in love.
"Hotaru..." He moved closer to her. He tried to restrain himself from holding his darling harlequin tight, but only felt more pangs of sadness. Hotaru must have noticed the distress in his eyes, for she asked with genuine concern, "All you ill, Yamato?"
"No, I'm fine, truly," Yamato answered quietly. How could he feel so strongly for her? How could he be so emotional? What would his father say?
"I really don't think so," Hotaru whispered, "Let's get you to your quarters." And she started to leave, supporting Duke Yamato. Quickly Yamato turned in the opposite direction. He replied, "No, this way's closer to my rooms. Just climb over the bush, into that open window, and up the secluded stairs..." The two of them clinging onto each other, they made their way past a bush and into a wide open with flimsy shutters hanging by rusted, broken hinges.
"Hey, what's this?" Yamato suddenly asked, spying a picture half shoved beneath the staircase. He walked over to it and gently pulled it out. Framed by an elaborate gold frame with intertwined vines was a portrait of an extremely beautiful lady. And she looked exactly like Hotaru...
"Hmm, Crown Princess of Spain, Mimi Taichikawa..." he read from a tiny plaque engraved on the frame. "Hotaru, this is a striking resemblance."
"Oh, really?" All of a sudden the pink harlequin was all fluttery and worried. She wrung her hands together and fiddled with her fingers, keeping her eyes downcast on the ground. "I suppose... but that doesn't mean we're sisters or anything."
"This is the one Father and his advisors want me to marry," Yamato sighed. "This is the first time I've ever seen her. Pierre was right. She's beautiful." Turning his eyes onto Hotaru, he whispered, "And so are you. But I think I like you better."
"Why Duke Yamato!" She gasped, holding her hand to her mouth. As Yamato reached out his hand to her tentatively, she slowly took it, biting her lip. Still keeping his eyes on her, Yamato kissed her hand and walked up the stairs. He mouthed the words, "I'll be seeing you later."
"Yamato..." Hotaru watched his retreating form up the spiral staircase. "I..." She started to say something, but shook her hand anxiously, and murmured, "No... he's forbidden... I must stay true to the task..." In that moment, she collapsed on the ground and started to weep. "No... no... no..."
Once Yamato reached his rooms, he slammed the door angrily and grumbled to himself. "Why didn't I kiss her? Tell her how I felt?" However, as soon as he uttered the words, he regretted it. For, sitting on the velvet couch right in front of him was his father.
"Oh? Tell who?" He inquired.
"Um..." Yamato was at a loss of words. "Um... Countess Sora!"
A grim smile wormed itself onto his father's tight, gaunt face. He laughed harshly, "Good, because we've had a change of plans. She's to be your betrothed in a month."
Yamato didn't even feel his jaw drop in a fish-like gape.
"Countess...Sora?!"